


I Promise

by TheWorkoftheHeart



Category: One Piece
Genre: Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, How Many Times Do I Have to Tell You This Old Man, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Sanji Comforts Zoro, Sanji Is Not A Vinsmoke, Though Not Outwardly Obvious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:33:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24199771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWorkoftheHeart/pseuds/TheWorkoftheHeart
Summary: When Sanji woke up in the middle of the night, he expected to see Zoro asleep beside him. It was normal, not to mention expected, that he wouldn’t be awake at this hour; however, their bed was empty, and the sheets felt cold.
Relationships: Roronoa Zoro/Vinsmoke Sanji
Comments: 14
Kudos: 188





	I Promise

**Author's Note:**

> i needed some self-indulgent hurt/comfort, so i wrote this at like 5 in the morning and finished it six hours later. hope it's alright!

When Sanji woke up in the middle of the night, he expected to see Zoro asleep beside him. It was normal, not to mention expected, that he wouldn’t be awake at this hour; however, their bed was empty, and the sheets felt cold. 

Perhaps it was an early start. While rare, they happened enough times that Sanji noted it as a definitive possibility. But his swords were still against the nightstand— proof he must’ve gotten up to do something but just... never came back. 

If they weren’t pirates, it wouldn’t have been worrying, but they were. It made Sanji nervous, the prospect of Zoro having disappeared overnight and being missing. He slid out of bed, grabbing his lighter and cigarettes off the floor before shuffling out of the dormitory and into the corridor to begin looking for Zoro. He had to be around here somewhere, and if he wasn’t, the debris of a scuffle was sure to be close.

Playing on the side of an early morning, he made his way to the deck, listening for any signs of the swordsman. As his feet made contact with cold grass, he looked around, and was relieved to see Zoro sitting on the rails of the ship, one leg on deck and the other curled up to his chest. He was hugging himself, with a distant look on his face as he stared out towards the ocean.

Sanji immediately knew something was wrong. He wasn’t sure how, but there was a pit in the depths of his chest that told him something was wrong with Zoro.

He quietly made his way towards him, flicking his lighter to alert Zoro of his arrival. The noise made him jump- unusual- and he hugged himself a little tighter. Sanji moved behind the swordsman, gently pressing a hand to his back.

“Good morning, Marimo,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the back of his head. “Are you alright? It’s early…”

“I’m fine,” came his response, his voice sharp and tight like he was trying not to feel anything. “Leave me alone.”

Sanji furrowed his brow. “Hey, no. What’s going on?”

“I said leave me alone.”

“I’m not leaving you alone,” he responded, “not until you tell me-”

“Nothing is wrong!”

“Marimo-”

“Get the fuck away from me!”

Sanji blinked in surprise, taking his hand off of Zoro’s back. He stepped aside for a moment before placing a hand on his shoulder, trying to get a better look at his face, to read his expression, to try and understand where his outburst came from.

The last thing Sanji expected was for Zoro to cry. It was an unmistakable tremble under his touch, the way his shoulder quivered, the tension going up his neck and down his arms, into a balled fist that was pressed taut against his face. It then came with quick breaths, and a sharp hiccup, and that seemed to break him. He buried himself into Sanji and _sobbed_ , loud and wordless wails that could only describe a pain he had buried down for too long. 

“Oh, Zoro,” Sanji whispered, running a hand through buzzed hair as he tried to offer comfort to him. “Let it out. It’s alright.”

Zoro gripped his shirt to where Sanji swore it would rip, gritting his teeth as he tried to keep his breathing even. Sanji couldn’t find any words to say to make it better, to ease the suffering his partner was undoubtedly going through. Instead, he eased Zoro off the rails of the Sunny and onto the deck, sitting down before pressing him to his chest. Sanji was amazed how smoothly he followed, as though resisting his comfort would only make it worse. 

He ran a hand through his partner’s hair as Zoro cried bloody murder; the tears just wouldn’t seem to stop, and he was shaking more than he ever had in his life. Sanji pressed a thumb to his cheek to wipe the tears away, and he watched his lover melt into the warmth of his hand. 

“It’s alright, Marimo,” Sanji said. “Breathe, breathe… I’ve got you. I’m right here. You’re safe.”

He wasn’t sure how long they’d been there. Sanji’s fingers had found a resting place in Zoro’s hair, and Zoro was gently picking at the fibers of his partner’s shirt, no longer crying. The hue of morning on the horizon was peeking around the walls of the deck; it had to have been an hour out here, at least, maybe a little more.

Sanji looked down at Zoro, at how drained and tired he looked. He blinked slowly and his tears still escaped his eyes, though they were small and not even notable enough to count as crying. 

“Are you alright, Marimo?” Sanji asks, and Zoro grunts, looking away. He pulls his hand off of Sanji’s shirt. 

“‘m fine,” comes his response, gravelly and tired. He shuffles off of Sanji’s lap carefully. 

“Don’t try to brush this off, please. You weren’t alright.”

Zoro doesn’t reply, not for a few moments. He then shakes his head. “No. I wasn’t. I’m _not_.”

Sanji could feel the weight of the air around them. “Do... do you want to talk about it?”

He shakes his head again. “I don’t.”

“Then... then come sit with me, at least.” He pats the space beside himself. “Just don’t go off all alone.”

Zoro looks back at Sanji, hesitating; slowly, he scoots over beside Sanji, easing back into his arms and curling his head into his neck. Sanji curls a hand around his head, cradling him close. “I’ve got you, Marimo. I’m not going to leave your side. I promise.”

The words make him relax in Sanji’s hold, no longer so strained in how he held himself. Zoro’s eyes drifted shut after a few moments, and Sanji didn’t speak for fear of rousing him from his sleep. Zoro needed to rest, especially after crying how he did, for as long as he did; he was never one to show his emotions, always bottling them up and stowing them away to age like wine. He must have just finally hit the point where the bottle blew.

It wasn’t appropriate to press, Sanji knew, so he wouldn’t. But if Zoro wanted to talk about it later, he’d be there, just like he promised.


End file.
